Time, or Something Like It
by girliedragon
Summary: Heading towards teh fluffy, but not quite there yet.


A Head Girl never shirks her duty. At least, not if she happens to be Hermione Granger. Practically, this meant that she was patrolling alone near midnight on the first night back in her last year in Hogwarts, having carefully arranged her robes so that her new badge shone in the moonlight. Every so often, she glanced down at it proudly and, it must be admitted, a bit smugly.

Turning a corner into a hallway out of the direct moonlight, she groaned inwardly at the flash of pale, silky hair in the gloom.

_Trust the Head Boy to be nowhere near where he's supposed to be patrolling…_

She straightened, took a deep breath, and stepped forward to confront him. As her eyes adjusted further to the half-light, Hermione stilled; there were two blonds in the corridor, one more slender and slightly shorter than the other, but both with fine, aristocratic features. The younger Malfoy had his wand out, but the elder was pinning his wrist to the wall with one hand and hissing urgently.

Hermione's hand slipped into her sleeve as subtly as she could manage while her mind raced through spells. A solid _Expelliarmus_ to start with, then a couple of incapacitating charms that wouldn't do much lasting damage. Possibly a binding hex, if necessary. It would have to be strong.

However, as she slid her wand out, Malfoy senior whipped around to stare at her, the whites of his eyes showing in the faint light. Hermione caught a muttered 'Bloody hell,' before he vanished.

_You can't Apparate in or out of Hogwarts…_

She would deal with that later. In the meantime, Draco Malfoy looked as though he'd gone into shock.

Hurrying over, she felt panic rise like bile in her throat; she'd been in dangerous situations, but they were so straightforward…fight or flight, and she was a Gryffindor but Harry's friend, so it was all too often flight, for his sake, only for his sake, and why was she thinking stupid thoughts now when Malfoy was in trouble but he was evil, wasn't he?

_Breathe, Hermione._

She knelt, reaching out awkwardly to touch his shoulder. "Malfoy?"

He blinked and focused on her. "Granger?" For a moment there was a confused vulnerability in his eyes…then he blinked again, and it was gone. "What do you want?"

"What do you think? Your father just - "

"That wasn't my father."

Tilting her head, she frowned. "What? But"

He sighed, too-feminine lashes sweeping his too-sharp cheekbones. He really wasn't that attractive. Not really. His features were too sharp, his eyes too cold, his build too slight…and yet there was something about this boy that made her forget her name when he sighed like that.

It was a perfectly natural reaction, of course. Hormones, or something.

"Just forget it, Granger. Forget you saw anything. I don't want to have to Obliviate you, but - " He caught himself.

"I don't want to have to Obliviate you. Just go, all right?"

"Fine. I hope you don't think I'm going to leave tonight alone, though."

"Believe me," he smirked, catching the reflected moonlight in his eyes, "I don't."

What with new classes, new Voldemort troubles, and having Harry Potter for a best friend, Hermione let a few weeks slip by before tackling Draco Malfoy and the Mysterious Incident.

Well, Malfoy did take the initiative by showing up at a DA meeting, but she quite definitely confronted him after that.

"What the hell did you think you were doing? You can't just - "

"What exactly can't I do, Granger? I thought your lot believed in second chances."

"Second - what?"

She'd dragged him back into the Room of Requirement as he was leaving, and was suddenly very aware that the Room looked less like a classroom and more like a…it couldn't be called a bedroom, due to the absence of any kind of bed, but there were throw pillows and softer lighting, among other subtle changes.

Bugger.

"Second chances. Redemption. You know. Save the wretched child from his dark fate, and so on. I repent of my wicked ways."

That was _such_ an evil smirk.

"Malfoy, if you think I believe that for one second, you severely underestimate my intelligence."

He sat on one of the throw pillows, which seemed to have _magically _grown into a floor pillow, and gazed up at her.

"Come on, Granger. If I reveal my motives now, there won't be anything left for the finale. Would you spoil a good story?"

"It's not a good story if it's got you in it." A weak shot, but her heart wasn't in it. "Look, just bloody _tell_ me already."

"That's your problem, you know." He leaned back on his elbows and began to pick idly at the fringe of the pillow. There was something about him…Hermione couldn't pin it down, but it seemed like a deep uneasiness. "You always have to know."

"If you'd been in my place…"

"Yeah, I know. All right, but if you tell either of your lackeys I'll regrow your teeth."

"Well?" Hermione raised her eyebrows and crossed her arms, defensive yet curious. She was entirely unprepared for his fingers on her wrist, tugging her down.

"I can't think if you're glowering over me like that."

She let that one pass, but settled herself across from him, waiting.

"I know you've heard of Time-Turners. I…Merlin, I'm not good at explanations. All right, listen: the other wizard you saw was me, ten years down the road. Apparently, he remembers himself visiting me - or him, or whatever - at my age, and that's how he knew what to do and what to say. He told me Voldemort will lose, but not much else because of disrupting the timeline. So here I am."

There was a short pause, then Hermione drawled, "Do you think I'm stupid, Draco Malfoy? Think very, very hard before answering."

"You don't believe me."

"In a word - no."

"He said you wouldn't."

"Mm-hm."

"When you were six, you had a toy kitten called Morningstar, because you thought it was a kind of flower. By the time you learned it was a weapon, Morningstar had been lost somewhere."

"I'm sure you've got a file on me, full of useless trivia like that."

"You feel historically inadequate next to Harry Potter, and then feel guilty about it because he's your best friend and going through some trying times, even if he does whine about himself a lot. You feel helpless about your relationship with Ron Weasley, because he's obviously besotted and equally obviously not what you're interested in; you feel less guilty about this, because you know you'd break up from the constant bickering anyway, but you don't know how to let him down subtly and gently."

"You're reading off a notecard that appears to be rather old."

"Yes, I am. You gave it to me ten years from now. Are you convinced?"

There had to be some wayOcculmency, or somethingbut that wouldn't sum up her feelings like that, and in her words. Besides, you could only keep arguing for so long.

"All right, Malfoy. Supposing that I hypothetically believe you, are you prepared to give your life for the Light side?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Have you not been listening? The war will be over fairly soon, and you and I will live through it. I don't know about anyone else."

"Hold on - why me? I mean, I am rather glad I'm going to live for another ten years, but why did your future self mention me?"

There was a silence, and Hermione glanced up from the floor at the wizard opposite her. "You're not going to tell me, are you?"

"No. Not now. Possibly not ever. You'll figure it out sometime anyway.."

She nodded. "I can live with that. So…where do we go from here?"

* * *

Not much of an ending, I know, but I am Done Writing For Tonight. Possibly more later. Who knows, really.

* * *


End file.
